A Wonderful Life
by Hidden Treasures
Summary: He showed her a wonderful life; but then he took it away, and she was lost. Sara-centric


**A Wonderful Life**

**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing at all; I'm just borrowing and commiserating with the characters of CSI.

**Spoilers:** Major spoilers for 13x15: _Forget Me Not_; teeny mention of episode 4x12: _Butterflied_ within the summary; and teeny references of 9x10: _One to Go_, 9x05: _Leave Out All the Rest_, and 6x21: _Rashomama_. I don't think there's anything else…

**Summary:** He showed her a wonderful life; but then he took it away, and she was lost.

**Author's Note:** I had started this right after _Forget Me Not_ aired in the United States, but only finished it recently. It's a wee bit sad, but hopefully it's also construed as a little hopeful. We can only hope that the writers realize the major mistake they've made and fix it sooner rather than later. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Eyes followed her down the hallway as she made her way to the locker room. Some were sympathetic, others were curious. The news of her separation from Grissom was rapidly spreading through the lab like wildfire, as she knew it would after the Basderic debacle. She could only imagine the conversations she would be having with Hodges once he finally caught up with her…

A lump caught in her throat, as it always did, when she thought for too long about her relationship with her husband. Ex-husband, as he would soon become, if they – she – could bring themselves to make it official. That one stung even worse. To have had it all, only to have it ripped from her fingers. Fifteen years ago, if someone would have told her that she would eventually be married but then divorced, she would have laughed in their face. Because Sara Sidle doesn't believe in the notion of marriage; because Sara Sidle doesn't need anybody else.

But then Gil Grissom came along and everything changed. They had a perfect, wonderful life together; they built a home together. They became a family. They were happy. But then something went terribly wrong, and now he's saying that it's in her best interests if they split up. Bullshit.

Before the tears could spill over, Sara hastily made her way into the locker room and collected her keys and purse. She was half way to the parking lot when she realized she had no car with which to use the keys. Thankfully, Greg was waiting for her in the parking lot.

"Come on," he said softly, "I'll take you home."

Not that home was any more comforting. But she walked with him anyways, having no means to drive to her house. A police cruiser had picked her up for questioning that morning and she'd forgotten that she'd need a ride home. As soon as Greg's car purred to life, soft drum beats and guitar strumming resonated throughout the cab: he'd left his radio on.

…_I believed_

_In everything you said to me._

_Yeah huh, that's right._

_If someone said three years from now,_

_You'd be long gone_

_I'd stand up and punch them out,_

'_Cuz they're…_

Her stomach ached as she listened to the familiar lyrics; who knew that a rock star could describe pain so vividly with music. That was one of the many reasons she'd ceased to listen to anything for weeks. But being alone with her thoughts wasn't much better...

Sara's palm slammed down onto the power button, effectively cutting off the offending music. Greg looked over at her, startled.

"What's wrong with a little Pink?" he asked.

"I don't like music," she answered stiffly.

Greg pressed her no further and instead began the silent drive to her house while Sara stared out the window, alone with her thoughts and the never-ending dull throbbing within her ribcage.

They finally arrived at her house after an awkwardly silent twenty-minute drive. Sara climbed out without a word and Greg was about to get out with her, but she lifted her lips in an attempted smile as she said, "It's okay. I'm okay. Thanks, Greg."

"I'll see you later, Sara," he promised before driving away.

She gave a little wave before turning around and walking into her house. Because it wasn't a home anymore. Everything that made it a home was stripped away with one simple phone call.

Moving to the back of the house to her master bathroom, she tried to ignore the memories that were assaulting her from every angle. Photographs of everything that she once had taunted her from every room. She walked up to a photograph that had been her favorite up until recently: it had been taken the day Gil had found her in the jungles of Costa Rica. He had his arms wrapped around her tightly and she was leaning into his chest. They both wore broad smiles.

He had promised her forever. Forever, it seems, only lasts for four years.

She forcefully slammed the photograph face-down, hiding their glowing faces from the world. It crashed to the floor, sending shattered glass scattering across the hardwood floor. Leaving the mess for later, she continued on to her bedroom, where she couldn't help but pause at a photograph of their – well, Gil's – dog. She hadn't seen Hank in months. She wondered if he would even recognize her. Her fingers gently grazed the glass in front of the Boxer's nose as she wished desperately that she could see him again. And his master.

Stepping into the hot shower, Sara tried to wash away the misery of the past few days, of the past few weeks. The scorching spray turned her skin red. She closed her eyes and leaned against the cool tiled wall, praying for oblivion.

_Warm fingers caressed her hair as they lathered in shampoo. They trailed over her naked body, massaging in the body wash and massaging away tense muscles. They guided her under the warm stream of water, gently cleansing her. Soft fingertips traversed her body, circling her breasts, stroking her abdomen, traveling further and further south…_

She opened her eyes, yearning to see a pair of intense blue ones staring back at her. But she was alone in the steam. Her chest ached and her stomach clenched horribly. Shutting off the jet of water, she stepped out of the shower and changed into jeans and a loose shirt; there was no way sleep would be visiting her any time soon, so why bother with a lost cause?

Gingerly avoiding the scattered glass in the hallway from the broken picture frame, she walked to the basement to retrieve a bottle of whiskey. Their "rainy day" supply, as he liked to refer to it as. They rarely drank, unless celebrating. He didn't want to encourage bad habits and she didn't want to revert back into her old ways.

She unsealed the top and poured herself an icy glassful. Not bothering to ease into it, she downed the glass in one shot, and then another; the sole goal of the evening: numbness. That had been her goal since January. That, or to awake from the horrid nightmare she'd found herself trapped in.

She just poured her third glass when the doorbell rang. Wearily, she stood with her drink and called out, "Yeah?"

"It's Nick, Greg, and Finn; open up!"

Sara let them in and instantly the smell of the pizza they'd brought assaulted her senses. She smiled – or tried to – and backed up to let them it. Though not really in the mood for company, she knew they wouldn't leave her alone until she socialized for a little while, and feigned normalcy. She was more than a little surprised to see Finn with them, but she made no comment. Greg looked at the amber liquid in her hand and held up a case of beer as he said, "I told you I'd be back. We brought this, but it looks like you've started without us."

Sara chuckled darkly and said, "I'm in need of something a little stronger at the moment. But you go ahead and drink that."

Greg walked behind Sara and into her living room. He glanced down the hallway and noticed the destroyed photograph on the floor; he'd been in her home enough times to know which photograph she'd destroyed.

"So, you, uh, redecorating?" he asked lightly, attempting humor.

"It fell," she answered flatly.

Greg pursed his lips and nodded slightly, saying nothing more.

The four sat down with their pizza and their alcohol in a comfortable silence. Mindless chitchat ensued and the atmosphere was friendly. At first.

"You know, we should make a habit of this," Nick said, gesturing between the four adults with his beer bottle. "This is nice. We can rotate between all of our homes."

"I second that," Finn said, tapping her bottle against Nick's. "Once a week: beer, food, bitch-fest. It'll be great. Lonely evenings suck."

All eyes flickered to Sara, and a heavy pause settled over the room. She sighed and said, "I'm fine!"

Finn smiled gently at her and patted her arm, saying, "Enh, it's alright, Sara. It happens to the best of us. Welcome to the "failed-marriage" club!"

Nick and Greg froze, turning to stare at Finn in disbelief and then at Sara to gage her reaction. Sara was calmly starting at Finn, but her tense jaw and fiery eyes betrayed her true feelings.

"My marriage did not fail," she said calmly.

Finn waved her comment aside, saying, "Still, sounds better than mine; I went through _two_ husbands. One heartache wasn't enough, I asked for another. Maybe my soul mate is still out there, maybe not…but hey, sometimes I think my divorces were a blessing in disguise because…"

Sara leaned towards Finn with fire in her eyes and smacked her hands against the table, yelling, "My marriage did _not_ fail!"

Her blood was boiling. But more than that, she felt worthless; she felt like she did in the early days of her career at the lab when Grissom had her locked in the never-ending game of tug-of-war. When she wasn't worth the risk of a potential relationship. But he finally took the plunge – hell, he even _left_ the career that was so damn important to him to go after her – and it was beautiful. But now he says she shouldn't want him anymore…

"Then what did happen?" Finn asked softly, knowing first hand that Sara should get her feelings out in the open. Trying to hide a separation from her friends for over a month had to have been tricky, Finn thought, not mention exhausting.

_If a relationship can't move forward…it withers_.

Sara gut clenched as she recalled the heartbreaking video message she had sent to Grissom many years ago telling him that he ought to move on with his life. His phone call was not so dissimilar…

"It withered," she whispered, almost inaudibly as she sat back down on the couch, feeling more numb than she could have ever felt with alcohol.

Greg, Nick, and Finn all looked at each other with worried eyes as Sara stared straight ahead.

"Everything was perfect," she whispered. "Or so I thought."

She slammed her drink down on the coffee table so forcefully that some of the liquid sloshed out before abruptly standing up. The other three in the room jumped back slightly, startled at her sudden outburst.

"Everything was perfect!" she said loudly, the alcohol fueling her anger.

She began to pace around the room, her gaze flickering to all of the photographs she had strewn around her house. "We had a wonderful, happy life together! He can't just take it all away and expect me to move on!"

"Way to help, Finn," Nick mumbled, stepping forward with hands extended, preparing to calm Sara down.

But Finn grabbed him and pulled him back, shaking her head slightly.

"Trust me, this will be good for her," she said lowly. "She needs to face what happened. For weeks, she's been pretending that everything was normal. And it's not. Talking about it will help with the healing process. And talking with friends is even more beneficial. What is said to friends stays between friends; what is said to a therapist goes on record. After I split with each of my husbands, I screamed to my girlfriends until I was blue in the face about all of the things that I could have done, should have done, and would have done differently if I had one more chance."

That comment seemed to draw Sara's attention. She glared at them and yelled, "_Everything_ was _perfect_. There wasn't anything I thought I _had_ to change. I didn't even know anything was wrong until he stopped answering my phone calls in December! For fourteen years I've chased him! God_damn_ it! I _had_ him! It had it _all!_ And he…he just…took it! He can't just…he said…he _promised_!"

Greg and Nick stared at each other, dumbstruck. How could they have been so oblivious to their friend's agony for so long? Finn walked up to Sara, who had crumpled onto her sofa, and was coaxing her to her bedroom. When the two women disappeared down the hall, Nick let out a low whistle.

"Damn," he muttered.

Greg nodded silently. Nothing more was said between the two men as they allowed the gravity of the situation to settle upon them. They had both been shocked to the core to learn of their friends' separation. But now, the advice they had given Sara during their "intervention", as she'd called it, didn't seem helpful at all. The relationship didn't seem anywhere near over, and Sara was so stricken that Greg was sure she would wait forever, if necessary, for Grissom to come back.

"She's out," Finn said as she joined them by the front door. "Well, that was constructive."

Nick and Greg stared at her. She sighed.

"Healing takes time," she said. "By the sounds of it, this one is going to take even more time. But she'll be okay. Eventually."

The trio left after putting the remnants of the veggie pizza in the fridge and cleaning up the beer bottles and Sara's whiskey glass.

**CSICSICSICSICSI**

Sara tossed and turned in her bed.

_He was on top of her, inside of her, all around her. His warm weight hovered above her as they moved as one in their wicked dance of love. When that dance reached its crescendo, and they both lay next to each other, completely spent, he reached out and held her closer to him. Their hearts pounded together, their breathing slowed together. Her head was tucked into his shoulder beneath his chin. She kissed his chest and he traced lazy patterns on her back. As she drifted, she heard him sigh out those three words that he seldom said but she knew he meant with his whole being. And she knew that she'd reached paradise..._

She bolted upright with a hammering heart, encased in tangled sheets. She reached out into the darkness, but was met with nothing but air and cold sheets. She sighed heavily and tears stung her eyes. She dug the heel of her hands into her eyes, trying to ward off the memories, the pain, and the tears. Every night was similar to this, but since Basderic had messed with her sleeping pills, she hadn't felt safe enough to use them; thus sleeplessness and bad dreams ensued.

She pressed her cellphone's power button. No missed calls or new messages. She sighed again. She hadn't expected him to, but every night, a little piece of her wished that he would call her back.

A glutton for punishment, she knew it was, but she scrolled through her frequently-dialed. His number was at the top of the list. Her thumb hovered over the call button. She was about to tap it, but her gut clenched. What would she do if he picked up? What would she do if he didn't? Would she leave a voicemail, as she'd done on occasion? Would she simply hang up, saying nothing?

She pressed the back button to get to her home screen and instead opened a new text message. Again, her brain drew a blank. What would she say to the man who just destroyed her world?

_We need to talk_…

Delete.

_So I've had a rough couple of days and I'd really like to talk to you about it_…

Delete.

_I don't know what you're thinking but please reconsider_…

Delete.

_How could you break every single promise you've ever made to me?_

Delete.

Sara sighed. She wished she could just _talk_ to him. Or _see_ him, face-to-face, just to find out what exactly went wrong. But truth be told, she wasn't even sure where he currently was. Last she heard, he was headed to Malaysia, but that was in December…

_The course of true love never did run smooth… I miss you._

Send.

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**Author's Note:** I hope this didn't dishearten anyone too badly. Keep the faith! And please drop a review to let me know your thoughts. The song that was playing when Sara and Greg were in the car was _Who Knew_ by P!nk; it seemed appropriate for Sara's situation. The final text message Sara decides to send to Grissom includes a quotation by William Shakespeare.


End file.
